One Last Flight
by CrazyNerdyFangirl
Summary: 20 years post-FANG. Max and Fang meet on the cliff. How will they react to seeing each other again? FAX, but with a sad ending. I suggest you don't read this if you want a fluffy everyone-is-happy ending. But if you want Fax, read this anyway. ONE-SHOT!


**AN: Extremely sad one-shot. Well, there's Fax but it still has a sad ending. I suggest you don't read it unless you **_**want**_** to be depressed. But if you want Fax despite the sad ending, read this anyway. **

Twenty years had passed. It was September 1st—exactly 20 years after that fateful day Fang had deserted her.

Max was ecstatic. Finally, after 20 years, she would get to see Fang again. If he kept his promise, that is. And she had no reason to believe he wouldn't. Except that he _had_ broken promises before. Max just had to believe he wouldn't break a promise this important.

When Max had first found out Fang had left, she had felt so many different emotions. First it was hurt. Her freaking _boyfriend_ and _best friend_ had broken his promise and left her. She had cried for such a long time—heart-wrenching sobs that were totally uncharacteristic of Max's usual ability to stay strong. But then, when she felt next was anger—a fiery anger that burned relentlessly inside her. How _dare_ he leave her? He was such a damn good-for-nothing bastard!

But slowly, that anger had dissipated and without it, Max had felt a growing sense of acceptance. Fang had already left. There was no way to change it. She couldn't go back. She couldn't go back and tell him to stay. She _wouldn't_ come looking for him—wouldn't act desperate for his love and attention.

As the years had passed by and Max had saved the world step by step, she had slowly forgiven Fang. It was a long, slow process, but eventually Max had realized Fang had done the right thing. It still hurt of course, but Fang was right. They couldn't concentrate around each other.

Dylan had tried to get Max to believe that he was her perfect other half, but he had soon realized that Max would never love him—Fang had been her one and only love. And slowly, Dylan had moved on, realizing that he liked someone else—Nudge.

Max looked in the mirror in her bedroom at her mom's house. These past 20 years had made her grow older, both physically and mentally. Her light brown hair had grown longer. There were numerous battle scars all over her body. There always seemed to be shadows under her chocolate brown eyes, as if even the mere act of living tired her out.

But that would change today.

Max brushed her hair, caring about her appearance for once. This was Fang did to her. He made her act less Max-like. Less tough. More open. More loving. Max could almost imagine she was 15 again and was preparing for a date with Fang. This was what this anticipation felt like. Maybe if she just imagined the meeting on the cliff as a regular old date, she would be less nervous about it.

Max's hand was shaking as she brushed her long hair, making sure it covered the back of her neck. She put on some clean clothes—that counted as dressing up for her. Then she left the house without saying goodbye to the rest of the flock.

She had already said goodbye to who she wanted to say goodbye to.

Fang was pacing in the cave, glancing up at the clear blue sky every few seconds. He shaded his eyes from the bright sun, hoping for a glimpse of Max. Today would be the day he would see her again. Fang almost smiled for the first time in 20 years. He hadn't been able to smile when he was without her. His world had been so, so cold.

Fang absentmindedly ran a hand through his dark hair, glad that it had grown long enough to cover the back of his neck.

He paced faster now. What if Max didn't come? What is she hated him for what he'd done—hadn't realized that he had done it because he loved her? The last twenty years had been almost impossible to endure, what if he had been looking forward to this day only to have Max reject him?

He shook his head. Couldn't think about that now.

There had been so many times in the past 20 years when Fang had wanted so desperately to just go back to the flock—go back to Max. He wanted to hold her in his arms once again and kiss her within an inch of her life. But he had resisted.

And all that time spent waiting would finally pay off today. If she showed up, that is.

Suddenly, Fang saw a large silhouette in the sky. It was too big to be a bird. Fang's heart began to beat faster. He was so close…

The shape was nearing him—getting larger and soon, he could tell it was a woman, about 35, with wings that were different shades of brown attached to her back. She had windswept light brown hair that had blond streaks in it when it caught the sun. She looked tired though. There were dark shadows under her eyes. Fang wondered if his leaving had caused them. But even with her tired appearance, she was beautiful. Older than he remembered, obviously, but beautiful nonetheless.

_Max._

Fang wanted to run to her and hold her in his arms again. He wanted to feel her warmth against his skin. Her soft lips against his. But he knew it was impossible. He didn't even know if she really wanted to see him again. But she had shown up, and that itself was a small miracle.

Max landed on the cliff, looking at him warily, like she didn't know whether to trust him or not. He was like a stranger to her after 20 years, why _should_ she trust him? But Fang could see a hint of hope in her eyes and let himself begin to consider the impossible.

Maybe she still loved him.

But Max made no move to approach Fang. She was standing stock-still, looking uncomfortable and stiff. Fang realized it wouldn't be a good idea to make the first move, in case Max flew away.

And there they stood for the next few minutes—several feet apart, neither of them moving, their eyes scrutinizing each other. Neither of them wanted to make the first move. Max saw that Fang's hair had grown longer, which was only to be expected—it had been 20 years after all. He was older, it was obvious. His face looked weary and he looked like he had been through a lot. Max could see that he also had shadows under his eyes and he needed to shave. But in spite of all that, Fang had kept some of his old good looks. His hair was still shiny and hung in his eyes adorably. He still wore all black, and his clothes were somewhat dirty. His arms were well-muscled.

There was nothing Max wanted to do more than just run into Fang's arms and have him hold her, but she wasn't stupid enough to trust him so easily. She eyed Fang carefully, willing him to make a move.

Fang decided that he'd had enough of waiting. She was so _close_ after 20 years. She was a sight for sore eyes. "Max," he whispered. The name sounded strange and familiar coming out of his mouth at the same time. He had refused to utter her name for 20 years—it had just hurt too much. But this girl—no, woman—was a part of him. He had known everything about her.

Max looked at Fang and her mouth almost curved into a smile. "Fang," she said. Even that one word was almost enough to make Fang run to her and hold her—but he knew that one wrong move could mean her leaving him, like she had done so many times when they were 14.

"I'm so sorry Max," Fang apologized, looking at his feet. Max knew it took a lot for him to say sorry, but she wasn't convinced. Just because she loved him didn't mean she still loved him. It took a lot to gain her love.

But looking at the man who was a stranger to her yet so familiar to her at the same time, she knew that she still loved him. She had always loved him. And would always love him.

"Why the hell did you leave, Fang?" Max tried to make her voice as steely and cold as she could. She didn't want him to think she would forgive and forget that easily.

"Max, I did it so you could be safe. You know I love you." His eyes looked into Max's, willing her to understand that he still loved her, that he wouldn't do anything to hurt her unless it was necessary.

Max just crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. Damn, she was stubborn. But he loved that about her. In fact, he loved everything about her. Her soft hair, her pink lips, her chocolate brown eyes…everything about her was beautiful.

Max glared at Fang warily. "You left me," she said blandly, emotionlessly. It was an unavoidable fact. Fang knew that. And as much as Max hated to admit it, she still kind of trusted him.

"I'm sorry, Max," Fang said once more. He knew she didn't trust him fully yet. Who would after he had left them for 20 years? But she hadn't started screaming at him and running away, so that had to count for something, right?

Max glared at Fang accusingly. She took a step toward him. But Fang knew that move wasn't out of love or a wanting to get near him. Considering that her hands were clenched into fists, ready for a fight, Fang knew that he would be lucky if he got out of this alive.

"You _fucking_ left me without even saying goodbye _in person_," Max hissed, taking slow steps toward Fang. Fang took a few steps back. Max looked positively murderous. Fang knew this look in her eyes. This was the look she always got when she was about to hurt someone very, very badly.

"I _loved_ you," Max said venomously. "You're such a _fucking good-for-nothing bastard_!" She was screaming now, and Fang was glad nobody around them could hear. Max tried to get all of her feelings out. Seeing him was like cutting a wound open again. She was so _mad_ at him. She wanted to rip out his intestines and strangle him with them for leaving her like he had. She hadn't been _herself_ after he had left.

Max raised her hand to punch Fang, to make him hurt like he had hurt her, but she stopped before her hand could connect with his body. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She turned away from Fang, sitting down on the cliff, looking up at the hawks who dominated the sky here. A million thoughts flew through her head. Did she really still love Fang? Yes, of course she did. But did she love him enough to let him back into her life? And right then, the answer was no.

Max knew that she didn't have much time to decide about Fang.

Max heard Fang's almost silent footsteps behind her. She felt him sit down next to her but didn't even spare him a glance. She ignored him.

Fang knew that time was running out.

He put an arm around Max's shoulder, after some hesitation. Max didn't know why, but she didn't push him away. His arm just felt like it fit perfectly around her shoulder, somehow. Max felt the strong muscles in his arms. With his other hand, Fang tilted her chin up so she was facing him. Her eyes met his, and it felt like there was an invisible current running through them—something that connected them—compelled them to pull toward each other. Max felt herself getting lost in Fang's midnight black eyes. Her anger, which was almost gone anyway, disappeared immediately.

They were getting closer and closer, their faces only inches apart. Max could feel Fang's warm breath on her cheeks. His hand reached out to cup her face and he brought her face even closer to his. Their lips were only and inch apart now. Max's breathing accelerated. Her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest.

Before Max really knew what was happening, Fang brought his lips down to hers.

Fang had meant the kiss to be quick—he didn't want Max to be scared off. But all thoughts of keeping this quick and chaste vanished as soon as his lips met Max's. Her lips, her taste were just like how he remembered them. He kissed her softly at first, but soon became greedy. He kissed her harder, lips pressed against hers insistently, his fingers tangled in her hair.

And the best part was, Max was kissing him back.

Max felt like there was liquid fire coursing through her veins. Everywhere his skin made contact with hers tingled pleasantly. His hand that wasn't in her hair stroked her cheek, leaving a trail of fire. She felt hyperaware of him. His hand in her hair, his arm around her waist, pulling her closer so that a dollar bill wouldn't be able to fit in between them.

Fang nibbled Max's bottom lip. Max parted her mouth slightly, but Fang wanted more. Max seemed to sense his need for closeness and she opened her mouth wider, granting him access. Max shivered when Fang's tongue began exploring her mouth. All the while, Fang kept trying to push Max closer to him.

It had been 20 years. They would have to make up for those 20 years now.

Fang was still stroking Max's face tenderly, almost as though he thought it would break, like she was fragile. As if she would disappear. Max wrapped her legs around his waist and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their kisses were hungry. They kissed like it was the only way to survive.

And then, she was on top of him, pulling his shirt over hi head. Max ran her hand through the powerful muscles in his stomach and chest. He had a six-pack, just like she remembered. Max could feel Fang's hands roaming under her shirt, tracing small circles on her stomach. Everywhere his hands touched her left a trail of sparks.

Fang began kissing Max's jaw. She began to lose herself in the feeling of having his warm lips in her skin. Fang moaned, trailing hot kisses down her neck, stopping to kiss her throat gently.

And then Max heard a gasp. She felt Fang tense. It was totally unlike Fang to show surprise, so Max knew it was serious. Fang's lips were no longer on her skin, and without them, she felt so cold, so incomplete.

Fang had messed up Max's hair when he had been kissing her. Now the back of her neck was exposed.

Fang was staring at something etched onto Max's neck

Four numbers.

9/1/30.

An expiration date.

Max bit her lip nervously, waiting for a response. The date had shown up about two weeks ago. She had known for two weeks that the day she would finally see Fang again would also be her last day on Earth.

Telling the flock had been one of the hardest things Max had ever had to do. She had almost decided not to tell them at all. She remembered Nudge's horrified face and tears. Iggy's sightless eyes comprehending that he would never be able to see her before he died. Gazzy's open mouth, not knowing how to react. Angel—even Angel had the decency to look sad. Max remembered that day very clearly, after all, it had only happened a week ago.

Max hadn't worried too much about her death, everyone had to die eventually, so why should dying now make such a big difference? Max knew she had an expiration date, what had surprised her was that she had lived this long. The Erasers hadn't even been able to make it into the double digits in terms of age, it was a miracle Max had lasted this long.

The only thing she regretted was that she would only have a little bit of time with Fang before her time was up.

Fang was holding Max's hair away from her neck and was looking at the expiration date disbelievingly. He was stroking her neck as though he had to make sure those four numbers were real. Max willed him to say something—to do anything to break the awkward silence.

Suddenly, Fang reached a hand toward his own hair. _What the hell, _Max thought uncomprehendingly. What did _his_ _hair_ have to do with anything? But then, with a growing sense of horror, Max realized that Fang was pulling his hair away from the back of his neck.

The markings on his neck were identical to hers.

9/1/30

The day both of them would die.

Max began to feel tears threatening to escape from her eyes. She hadn't cried when she had found out about her death but now, she had just found out that the guy she loved was going to die with her. She had assumed that she would see Fang here, they would talk, then she would…pass on and he would move on with his life.

She had never imagined the last day of her life would be the last day of his too. Why hadn't he told her when he had first seen her? But then she realized that his reasons were the same as hers. They had wanted to spend their last few hours alive carefree, not worrying about their death.

Max realized she couldn't keep the tears in anymore. They spilled out from her eyes. Her vision blurred from her tears. And suddenly, arms were around her shoulders and she was being pulled toward a warm body. She placed her head on Fang's shoulder and sobbed wordlessly onto Fang's shirt.

Fang's hand was on her chin, tilting her face up so her eyes could meet his. With his free hand, he wiped her tears away silently. His hand on her cheek was so warm.

Max stopped crying as she realized that a crying Max might not be exactly what Fang wanted to see before he died. She had to be strong, even if it was only for his sake.

"Did you tell the flock?" Fang whispered. Max looked up at Fang in surprise. A complete sentence? This was different. So _this_ was what knowing that you could die any minute did to them. It made Fang speak in complete sentences and Max _cry_.

"Yeah," she whispered back. He kissed her forehead softly and gave a full blown-smile. She loved that smile so much. She didn't know how she had survived 20 years without it.

He kissed her on the lips again, and she kissed him back. This kiss was less hungry than the ones they had shared earlier. This kiss was more sweet, and neither of them wanted it to end.

But then Fang stood up. Max looked at him in surprise. Fang extended a hand toward Max.

"One last flight?" he asked. Max nodded and grasped his hand and pulled herself up. Both of them extended their wings. Max realized that Fang's wings were just as beautiful as she remembered them. Midnight black, and the sun's rays glinted off of them.

Grabbing Fang's hand, Max flew into the sky, dragging Fang with her. "Race you," Max said with a cocky smile. She gestured to a patch of trees in the distance. She might as well have some fun before she died, right?

Fang nodded in agreement and put a determined expression on his face. They both flew toward the trees, not caring who won, just enjoying each other's presence.

Max realized, without a doubt, that if she had to pick a place to die, he would pick here. Because Fang was here.

And they were together.

**AN: So, was it good or bad? Tell me your opinions by REVIEWING REVIEWING REVIEWING! Please? I would very much appreciate it if you reviewed… You know you want to…**

**Bob the Vampire Zombie: Urgh!**

**Me: We're all out of chocolate chip cookies, okay? Why does a vampire zombie always want **_**cookies**_** anyway? Shouldn't you want brains or blood? Or bloody brains?**

**Bob the Vampire Zombie: *shrugs* Urgh. (translation: Cookies are delicious)**

**Me: *headdesk***

**Review?**


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